


Never

by ffictionrec



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, mergana - Freeform, merlin x morgana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 02:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4901851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffictionrec/pseuds/ffictionrec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time he asked her was eighty years after he had stabbed her to death. She stabbed him right back. Hundred years ago, he had asked her, and she averted her eyes. Last night, he asked her again. This time, she was ready.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I was on the fence about posting this fic but my lovely beta convinced me it was a good one. So, here’s my very first Mergana fic.

**i.**

The first time was a long time ago.

Even back then, they were good at pretending. The shock of betrayal was still new, the bitterness still spreading, and yet, they were good at pretending it didn’t hurt. Pretending they were mere children, carefree and happy. Only seventeen.

The illusion was shattered when he offered her the last of his water. She looked away then. The memory of his arms wrapped tight around her as the poison destroyed her insides was still fresh, the wounds still far too raw. 

With guilt in his eyes, he’d asked her that horrible question.

_Will you ever trust me again?_

When she looked back into his eyes, they were dead and she was holding a bloodied dagger. 

**ii.**

The next time was a few hundred years ago. 

It was instinctual. Muscle memory. Centuries spent together, and she still couldn’t shake it. 

Seated around a small table at a cosy little bistro in the south of France, they had almost forgotten the constant ache that plagued them both. Almost. 

When he started to refill her wine glass, she reflexively covered it with her hand. His eyes full of hurt and remembrance, he had asked her again, a bit more desperately.

 _Will you_ ever _trust me again?_

She looked away, and changed the subject. That night, she had begun work on the potion. 

Four lifetimes ago, she’d perfected it. 

Last night, she used it.

**iii.**

She had been carrying it around on her person, like a talisman, never quite working up the courage to use it. For two hundred long years, she wondered if she ever could. Until last night, that is.

He had made her tea. It was only tea. It had been forever, and it was only tea. Was tea supposed to fill her with so much apprehension?

Sitting in their twenty-first century kitchen, she stared at the cup for a long, long time, until it had gone completely cold and the leaves had settled at the bottom.

She heard a deep sigh behind her. He looked utterly dejected. 

_Will you ever trust me again?_

This time, the question was filled with more pain than it ever had. She got up and made a fresh batch for both of them. 

The answer of course, was never. She would never trust him again.

When he woke up the next morning, she was gone. 

And he had lost his magic.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully the second part will be done soon-ish.


End file.
